August Escape
by Eyes-of-Pearl
Summary: COMPLETED. Preseries. Hint of BB at the end. What exactly happened with Brennan when she was in Guatemala? Prelude to my other story, Jealous.


**August Escape**

_by: Eyes-of-Pearl_

**Rating**: K+

**Disclaimer**: Bones belongs to its respective owners.

**Author's Note & Synopsis**: Something a little bit different to remind you guys of the the beautiful summer heat, instead of the dreary snow that we are having ;) It's AU with a hint of BB at the end. Pre-series. What exactly happened with Brennan in Guatemala? This is a brief prelude to my other story, "Jealous," but you don't have to read that one first to understand this one.

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**August Escape**

From outward appearances, she was here because she was doing what she did best as a forensics anthropologist - giving identities to what was once nameless skeletal remains. The offer came as a blessing in disguise and gave her the perfect excuse. Of course, even though she was one of the most prominent people in her trade with a doctorate and a best-selling book, the Jeffersonian Institute was under no obligation to send her on an impromptu trip to Guatemala whenever it was convenient for her. She put up good arguments with Dr. Goodman, with the foremost, it being a good opportunity to promote the image of the Jeffersonian and the other, she was willing to pay for part of her expenses. In the end, she got her approval to go off on a two-month stint to Guatemala to identify the remains of Genocide victims.

Though her boss gave her the needed consent, she knew that her best friend, Angela Montenegro wasn't going to drop the issue so quickly.

"So, when are you leaving?" the forensic artist had asked.

"By the end of the week."

"Just so you know, sweetie, I am not fooled. You don't need to go to Guatemala to get over a bad breakup."

"Ange, you're always telling me to take a vacation on some remote island with white-sand beaches and over-priced resorts. This will be the perfect opportunity."

"Riiggghhht, Bren, since when do you take vacations, much less go to white-sand beaches? But because I am your best friend and I love you, I'm going to let this one slide You can make it up to me by going shopping."

"Shopping? Ange, I don't need."

"Uh..." Angela stalled any further comments with a raise of a finger and a shake of her head, "No excuses, you owe me, Bren. Since you are so insistent of the fact that you are actually going to take some vacation time while you're in some backward country without me, the least that I could do is give you a fresh wardrobe."

That had been almost a month ago and Dr. Temperance Brennan, or "Bren" as Angela would call her, had not actually visit any white-sand beaches or lounge at some upscale resort. In fact, she had not seen much besides decrepit skeletal remains in barely covered grave sites.

Angela had definitely called her on her so-called "vacation" during one of their weekly video-conferencing sessions. "Bren, what happened to taking a break?"

"Ange, I do relax, sometimes ... work is going well ... I like to work. Significant progress has been made here."

"But Sweetie, you also need to take care of yourself too. You know going to Guatemala is probably not the best idea to escape from your personal problems."

"Ange..."

"Just promise me that you will go take two days to relax, please for me?"

Brennan really hated to disappoint her best friend, especially when she only had the best intentions in mind, so Brennan promised with a resigning nod. "Alright Ange, for you."

"Great, I want a full report the next time we talk and you better put that bikini to good use."

With those words brought Temperance Brennan back to her predicament. She didn't know what possessed her to listen to Angela when they decide on a suitable swimwear. The turquoise-coloured triangle top had thin straps that tied up in the back and a jewelled detail at the junction of the cleavage. This was matched with keyhole bottom. Though the piece only offered a modest cleavage, Brennan felt self-conscious about showing so much skin and decided on a bright print sarong to tie around her waist.

With that, she had headed off to the beach, bringing with her only her sunglasses which substituted as a headband. Her torrent blue eyes scanned her surroundings. Drawing in deep breaths, she allowed herself to be enveloped by the very sights and sounds that her brain was trying to process. Then, her thoughts drifted and settled upon the real reason for her trip to Guatemala. Angela, as usual was perceptive and knew that the trip was partially a means of escape.

She and Steve had finally broken it off, after a year of broken dinner dates and casual dating. He had called her 'emotionally distant' but the sexual part of their relationship had been anything but distant. But the novelty eventually wore off and for her, it wasn't a shock. She was used to people coming and going in her life, it wasn't anything new. As a form of protection, she had taught herself not to make emotional investments, such abstract feelings were frivolous and draining.

That was the reason why she took comfort in studying bones - it was science, hard and concrete evidence that was just wanting for her to unravel. She could discern histories from just studying the state of one's ischium and mandibles.

With a shake of her head, she realized how depressing her thoughts had become and tried to redirect her attention._ 'This is after all a vacation and Angela expects a full report later,' _she thought.

Continuing her walk down the beach, she found herself enveloped by the solitude and tranquility of the surroundings. She dug her toes into sand, relishing in the warmth of each granule spreading from her phalanges into her core. She wrapped her arms around herself, and hummed a nameless tune. Her eyes closed on their own account.

Temperance Brennan didn't know the profile that she presented. Her face basked in the iridescent sunset as variations of red, purple, orange, and peach hues erupted across the sky. That was until a voice spoke up,

_O you,  
so perfect and so peerless  
are created of every creature's best._

Startled and shock didn't begin to describe her emotions at the interruption. With a critical eye, she assessed her intruder - male, around 6'1, define physique with an admirable display of his rectus abdominus and quadriceps femoris (what most people called abs and thighs respectively). She wasn't close enough to mark out his facial features, but somehow she was certain that his eyes were a solid shade of russet.

He was walking closer to her but she couldn't bring herself to stop his advances. He held up both his hands in defence, to convey that he meant no harm. "Sorry darlin', didn't mean to scare you."

"What did you say to me earlier?" she managed to blurt out, when the stranger was standing close enough for a decent conversation.

"O you, so perfect and so peerless are created of every creature's best," he recited, "you have no idea the effect that you have on men, darlin'."

"Why do you call me that?"

"What, darlin'?"

By his smirk, she knew that he was perfectly aware to what she was referring to. "I don't know you."

"As a stranger, I don't go out of my ways to offend another stranger."

"Yet, you did, with your words."

"You were offended by a compliment? A sincere one at that, like I said, darlin', you have no idea the effect that you have on men."

Deciding that she had enough of this verbal repartee with a complete stranger, she turned and headed closer to inland. "Come on, darlin' have a drink with me."

She spun around and demanded, "Are you some sort of a stalker? Or just plain crazy?"

Not losing his good humour and certainly not offended by her curt tone, he answered, "No on the first, and maybe just a little on the second. Then again, we are all guilty of being a little crazy once in a while. No worries, darlin' I'm one of the good guys."

"I don't know what that means... who and what are you?"

Cocking his head to one side and gesturing at his body, "Clearly I am a male, but do you mean as an occupation? I can't tell you that, darlin', or else I may have to kill you."

Even though he said the last comment with a wink and smile, she answered rather bluntly, "That will be rather difficult."

"What?"

"To kill me ... I know how to break your hand in several different places."

"Well considering the hand has 27 bones accounting for the 8 in the wrist, I don't doubt that."

If she was impressed by his knowledge of human anatomy, she didn't say it. But he was aware that he had caught her off guard, "It's only a drink, darlin'. Your choice with no strings attached."

Even though, she didn't know the meaning of that expression, she found herself agreeing. They made their way over to one of the bars that were along the beach. They didn't converse, even after they were shown a table and ordered drinks. Lively music wafted through the air and Brennan, always appreciative of other cultures and traditions was already trying to weave into the heart of the Guatemala through its music.

She tried to discern some of the Spanish lyrics, as her body swayed to the incessant beats of percussions and brass. The jewel ornament of her bikini flashed to each resonant chord. Again, Brennan was oblivious to the attention that she garnered from those around her. She felt gossamer hands around her waist as they spun her around before arching her backwards. A masculine voice whispered in her ear, _"O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound."_

Brennan realized that she was caught by his warmth and was grateful when the waitress returned with their drinks. She quickly downed her tequila, feeling the bite down her throat. "One drink," she said as she prepared to leave.

"What are you escaping from?" Somehow, he had managed to stop her with his words.

"At this particular moment, you."

"Touche darlin', but I don't mean at this particular moment."

"Stop calling me that. I am not your darling."

Brennan realized with a start that she was drawing the attention of other patrons. The stranger smiled and offered her his hand as he becked her to sit back down. He then, signaled for another round of drinks and explained in a hushed voice, "It seems that all I am doing is offending you. Sorry darlin', that wasn't my intention. But I don't know your name and frankly, I doubt that you would appreciate it if I call you by some derogatory term. After all, you know how to break my hand in several different places."

Their conversation was interrupted by the waitress returning with their drinks. She smiled and conceded to the stranger's explanations, even though, she was irked by the fact that he had managed to disarm her with his words.

Taking a drink from his Corona, he said, "From your reaction, you are obviously escaping from a man."

At her quivering stare, he amended, "I don't mean just me, even though I am in fact a male. I refer to a relationship. Well darlin' let me tell you, you're not alone, but consider it as his loss."

"And your gain?"

He chuckled, not wholeheartedly, but one where someone was avoiding a difficult subject. "Not in the way that you think. Don't make a judgment one me yet, darlin', we're only strangers sharing drinks and a conversation."

They had another round before he indicated the dance floor. "Don't deny it, when your body has already betrayed you."

Brennan had to admit that he was a good dancer and from what she could deduce fluent in Spanish. He serenaded to her as he effortlessly twisted her body on the dance floor. Her bring sarong flashed a multiple array of colours under the glare of her stranger's soulful brown eyes. By the time, they returned to their table, Brennan felt her inhibitions lowered and she boldly stated, "Shakespeare. You were quoting Shakespeare."

Again, with the boyish smile, but he didn't correct her. Instead, he toasted to her answer by raising his beer bottle and drained its contents. She continued with her speculation, "And from your previous comments, logically speaking, you're also escaping. Since you are so ready to imply that I am escaping from a relationship, then it is safe to conclude that you are as well."

"Didn't know you're one for psychology, darlin'."

She shook her head and denied vehemently, "I don't believe in psychology. It is a soft science. My statements are based on observations and primitive qualitative surveys. The fact that you are avoiding the subject by answering me with backhanded comments, merely supports my hypothesis."

For the first time that night, his tone turned serious. "It's been a long time that I've been with a woman like you, darlin'. Lets agree that we're ere because we're trying to forget and whatever goes on during this little escape stays between us."

He leaned closer and caressed her lips with his own. She could detect the must of his cologne and the combined flavour of drinks on his breath. At that moment, she had a flash of Steve, her ex-boyfriend's comments, "Temperance, you're too emotionally distant."

It ignited something inside her – anger, fear ... she forced herself to forget, just like the stranger had proposed. She reached up and drew his head closer, until their lips met again. He arms felt solid and real around her waist. Whatever happened next didn't register in her mind, as they somehow made their way out of the bar and back to his suite at a resort nearby. They backtracked into his bed, as her bright sarong fluttered to the plush carpet beneath.

oOoOo

Brennan woke up with a pounding headache that only worsened when she found herself in a foreign bed. Her naked body was covered with a single bed sheet and a man's arm around her waist. Her movements jolted her fellow occupant awake.

"Darlin."

That word alone was enough of a confirmation for Brennan that last night was in fact happened. "Oh my gosh!"

"Keep it down, darlin."

"I'm not your darlin and frankly, I don't even known who you are."

"Didn't we go through this last night?"

"What we had was ..."

"Sex. You can say that and we had protection too. Don't worry darlin, I'm as clean as they come. It goes with the territory."

"Which is what exactly?"

He ignored her question and grabbed another bed sheet to wrap around himself. He rummaged in the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Taking two out and swallowed them without water, he then offer the bottle to her. Realizing that she was still very much naked, she pulled the sheet that she currently have, closer to her body, before accepting the aspirin.

"I wasn't kidding when I said that I haven't been with a woman in a long time."

"Meaning what exactly."

"Good pick up with the Shakespeare. Extra points if you can guess which play, Miranda."

"My name isn't Miranda and this isn't a game. Oh I see, you don't know my name."

"Actually I do, but that's not the point, is it?" he asked and winked at her.

Brennan was dumbfounded when he got up and disappeared to the bathroom. She was uncomfortable with putting her bathing suit on but realized that she didn't really have a choice in the matter. It took very little time for her to dress when the stranger reemerged with a fresh change of clothes and a shave.

"The Tempest. Miranda is a character from the Shakespearean play, _The Tempest,_" she said confidently.

"The way that you're standing on the beach that day, you don't know the effect you have on men, darlin. Who could blame Ferdinand for falling in love with a vision? There is a sense of naivety around you, sheltered and secluded like Miranda. You're here in a strange world, longing for something or someone, but I doubt that you yourself, know what that is."

"I hate psychology," she replied because he was no longer, making a reference to Shakespeare.

"And I'm Ariel, a spirit or sorts," he countered.

"Perhaps, you can tell me who you really are, instead of hiding behind the facade of Shakespearean characters."

"Dr. Brennan, I do apologize."

Seeing her incredulous look, he said as-a-matter-of-fact, "You're Dr. Temperance Brennan. It's rather difficult not to know who you are, when your picture is on the back of best sellers. In case, you're wondering I'm not a stalker, or a rapist, or a murderer. Like I said before, I'm one of the good guys, in fact I help to catch those people. You're a forensics anthropologist and one logical explanation for your presence is to investigate the grave sites here in Guatemala. You see, you're not the only one here with the investigation skills."

Without waiting for her response, he continued, "I do know that I haven't very forward with you, but I haven't lied either. We have a lot in common when I say that we are both escaping from men troubles."

"I don't know what that means."

"My name is Agent Aaron Martinez, CIA. Lets just say that CIA has a don't ask, don't tell policy when it comes to sexual orientation."

Seeing her bewildered expression, he said, "Ah Miranda, I wasn't kidding when I said that I haven't been with a woman in a long time. In my line of work, it's difficult to commit to any relationship, a homosexual one is just an added layer of complexity."

"My ex said that I was emotionally distant and that, I'm too involved in my work."

"I don't think he know s you at all, darlin. You just need someone who's your equal and is able to tap into the woman inside."

"I think I like you as Ariel better, instead of Agent Martinez. At least, I can handle Shakespeare."

"C'mon then, darlin. I'll be a gentleman and walk you back."

oOoOo

Angela Montenegro knew that she was late. She cursed when she saw the malfunctioning arrival board and her frustration heightened, when the attendant at the information booth point blankly ignored her. The forensic artist decided that drastic measure was needed, when she decided to flash open her jacket.

"I hope you said excuse me first."

Temperance Brennan was happy to be back in the States, even if it meant being subjected to an intense question period form her best friend. "Aw sweetie, missed you."

"Missed you too, Ange."

"So, how was Guatemala? Was it horribly backward? Did you do anything that I wouldn't do?"

_'Does having drunken sex with a homosexual CIA agent who quotes Shakespeare count?' _she thought, but wisely answered, "Ange, whatever happens on vacation stays on vacation."

"Right Bren, because you take vacation days."

However, Brennan's attention was drawn to the man who was following them from behind. She spun around, dropping her carry on to the ground and catching the man off guard. "Excuse me sir, but why are you following us?" she demanded.

Next thing she knew, Temperance Brennan was sitting in a Homeland Security office, trying to explain to the authorities when she had a human skull in her travelling bag. That was until she looked up to a pair of umber-coloured eyes.

He was dressed smartly in a tailored two piece suit with a mismatched tie. In his hand, he held up the standard issue FBI badge, as he introduced himself, "Special Agent Seeley Booth. Bones, here is with me."

_He's the only man that I have truly sighed for. _

She rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh before she demanded, "Don't call me, Bones."

**Fin**

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AN: In case, you guys didn't catch that, I was quoting Shakespeare's The Tempest.


End file.
